Dragon's Chosen Mate

by Riley Storm

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Altair

  He stood out on the Courtyard with the other members of the team.

  Those that remained, at least. Two of their number had fallen in the battle, and it was reflected in the mood of those assembled now. He could sense it, could feel it winding its way through the entire time.

  Defeat.

  It was sinking its teeth into them, dragging them down. Making them feel useless. Like failures.

  “Hey,” he snarled so suddenly, and loudly, that many of them flinched away. “We’re not out of this yet,” he growled. “We got surprised, yes. But we’re not giving up. We’re not letting that be the end of it, are we?”

  Several of them shook their heads. Not many though. It was worse than he thought.

  “No, we’re not,” a voice said strongly, echoing out across the courtyard. “Not one bit.”

  He looked up to see Christine approaching. Circe was at her side, but the head of Winterspell remained quiet, letting Christine do the talking.

  Altair studied her. Something was different about her since they’d parted. There was…not just energy and enthusiasm, but something more.

  “Is anyone here satisfied with how things went the first time?” Christine barked.

  Ah. That was it. Pride. Her spine was straight, and her chin up high.

  “I didn’t think so,” she continued when nobody answered. “Neither am I. In fact, I am not just unsatisfied, I am pissed off!” she finished, snarling so savagely that several of the witches took a step back as she stalked among them. “I am angry. But more than that, I’m ready to show this sludge-sucking pointy-headed ugly-ass bastard just how badly he screwed up by messing with me!”

  Altair grinned as some of the witches began to nod along.

  “Lord Berith thinks he can come here, and mess with the Witches of Winterspell, does he?” Christine barked. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m about done being messed around with!”

  “Same,” Becca growled, standing up tall despite the bruises and cuts on her face. “It’s high time we went back there and showed him how big a mistake he’s made!”

  “Yeah!” several others cried.

  Christine looked around the assembled group. “Anyone else pissed off and ready to take it out on this pathetic piece of crap that calls himself a demon? Anyone else want to lay down the hurt?”

  “Hell yeah!”

  Altair sent his mind flickering skyward. The clouds rumbled ominously. “I’m in,” he said.

  A second later, lightning lit the sky so bright it was daylight for a brief instant in time.

  “Let’s kick his ass,” Christine said, her voice a whisper.

  The cheers from the other witches were drowned out by the crack of thunder that rolled over Winterspell.

  “If it’s all the same to you,” another voice interrupted. “We’d like to come help.”

  Altair turned to see some familiar faces approaching.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, looking back and forth between Damien, Rane, and their mates.

  “Lending our support,” Damien said. “One dragon is good. Three is better.”

  “And we’re coming too,” Anna said, elbowing Damien in the side.

  Christine came over. “I appreciate your help, but our team is used to working together.”

  “We understand,” Natasha said, clutching Rane’s hand tightly in her own. “We won’t interfere. But we can help. Our magic is…strong,” she said, looking at Rane. “Very strong.”

  Christine nodded. “I…I think I understand.”

  Altair glanced over, only to find Christine already staring at him oddly. What was that look for, he wondered? Could she have guessed what he wanted to tell her before they left?

  That seemed impossible but…his eyes strayed over to the newly arrived quartet, and the way the two pairs stood close to one another.

  Maybe it was possible?

  “Remember,” Circe said, speaking at least. “Once you have pinned him down, send the signal. We are ready and waiting. The Coven will join the fight, but we must ensure that Winterspell is not under threat first.”

  “Of course,” Christine said, looking around. “Everyone ready?”

  There were nods all around. “Very well then. We depart in five. Do your last double check now.”

  Altair was watching her as she spoke. The Circe must have made her the team leader now, he realized, noticing that Madison wasn’t among the group. That was why she’d been summoned to her office.

  For a moment, he hesitated, wondering if perhaps now was not the best time to tell her. Would it distract her? Make her doubt that what they were doing was a bad idea?

  “Don’t hesitate.”

  He looked up to see Damien looking his way. The other storm dragon smiled and dipped his head in Christine’s direction.

  How the other dragon knew, Altair couldn’t possible figure out, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t right. This was the last chance he would have to tell her before they departed. If he didn’t do it now, he might not get the chance again. After all, anything could go wrong.

  Stepping forward, he moved to her side.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi. You got everything?” she asked, checking her pockets, running her hands the length of her staff.

  “Yeah. I, um, I usually travel with it all the time,” he said lightly. “It doesn’t leave my side. Or my front, or…”

  Christine looked up, smiling as she realized what she’d said. “Right. Of course. Sorry.”

  He waved her off. “Don’t be sorry. That’s silly. Um, but listen, there’s something I wanted to tell you. Before we go out there. You know, in case it goes bad.”

  “Altair, listen, you don’t have to say anything,” she said, trying to give him an out.

  Before, he might have taken it. Before, he might have not had the courage to even come up and speak to her.

  Now though, he wasn’t backing down.

  “I’m serious. I need to put this out there. I need you to know, okay? I don’t want it left unsaid.”

  Christine fixed him with a stern look. “Look, I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen out there, but you are not to sacrifice yourself today, okay? We are going in as a team and coming out as a team. End of story. If you think you need to—”

  “I love you,” he said, interrupting her before she could get any more worked up.

  “What?”

  Altair nodded. “I love you. I need to tell you that. Just…just in case. But I promise, I’m not going to do anything stupid today. Not unless it’s literally the only option. I don’t want to die anymore,” he said quietly. “Because of you.”

  Christine stood there, open-mouthed. Clearly, he’d shocked her with his admission. Altair waited for her to respond, to say anything, but before she could speak, someone else entered the courtyard.

  “Do you have room for one more?”

  He turned to look over his shoulder as Madison stood off to the side. She looked terrible.

  “Madison,” Christine said, finding her voice, stepping around Altair, though not without dragging her hand along his chest as she passed.

  It wasn’t much, but it was enough for him. He hadn’t expected her to respond, to say it back. But he was grateful for that touch. It told him all he needed to know, that he hadn’t scared her off. She just wasn’t ready to say it back yet, and that was fine.

  There would be time. I hope.

  “Are you fit to fight?” Christine asked.

  “Yes. More than ready,” Madison said.

  “Welcome aboard. Get yourself ready, we’re leaving,” Christine said, shaking the other woman’s hand. “Glad to have someone like you with us to help kick some demon ass.”

  The other witches smiled and nodded. They were happy that Christine wasn’t going to hold Madison’s earlier failure against her. Everyone deserved a second chance.

  Altair blinked, realizing the words might
have more truth to them than he’d thought.

  “Saddle up,” Christine ordered. “It’s time to take the fight to Berith and show him the error of his ways.”

  Altair grinned. The demon lord was about to get a rude awakening.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Christine

  They came in at the Outpost from on high, staffs and wands at the ready.

  It had become evident from a great distance that Lord Berith was still at the Outpost. Try as she might, Christine couldn’t figure out why he had remained in the same place, after proving so elusive to her European counterparts.

  She suspected it was a trap. That he was waiting for them to come back. The witches had all agreed with her thoughts, and they were acting accordingly.

  They came down in a flash of magic, beams slicing at Lord Berith from every direction. Ice flashed and hissed as it coated the demon lord but was burnt away by his fiery skin and demonic powers.

  Berith roared and swatted at them, but the witches were too agile in the air, staying outside the reach of his maul. He simply couldn’t get to them. Unfortunately, it was also too hard for the witches to hit him with enough strength to actually hurt him. They had to land.

  They did, in a sharp arc formation, nearly a hundred feet away from where Berith stood among the still-smoking ruins of the Outpost. The buildings had been destroyed down to their foundations, only bits and pieces still standing upright.

  The instant they landed, Berith howled with laughter. “Yes! Come, attack me. Send me back to the Abyss. It is time!”

  Christine exchanged confused glances with the rest of her team. This was not what she’d expected from the demon lord, and it was confusing her.

  “You can go back any time you wish,” she said quietly. “You don’t need us for it.”

  Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

  “Maybe I want you to do it for me!” Berith snarled, his voice booming across the battlefield.

  “Something doesn’t make sense here,” Madison said from the left flank.

  “Yeah. It majorly stinks. Why would he want us to send him back? That’s just insane on his part,” she agreed.

  What could he be planning?

  The two sides stood at a face-off, neither attacking the other while the witches tried to puzzle out what he was up. Demons were sneaky, slippery creatures, vastly intelligent, though prone to underestimating the intellect of races they considered ‘lessers’, of which humans, and thus witches, were most definitely one.

  “I think we have no choice but to find out what he’s up to,” she said heavily at the end. “He cannot remain here.”

  The others muttered their agreement.

  “May as well go for the lockdown spell,” she said quietly. “If he’s willing to let us take the offensive, let’s do our worst.”

  The others spread out slightly, and yellowish magic began to pulse from wands and staffs as the witches charged the spell, working in common.

  Lord Berith rumbled expectantly, positioning himself slightly off to the left. The witches faced him, and as one, they cast the spell.

  Brilliant strands of yellow magic shot out and over the demon lord, splitting and intertwining as they went. The giant net spread vast, and then plunged down to the earth, trapping the demon lord beneath its magically infused strands.

  Berith howled.

  “Uh, guys?”

  The demon was breaking free.

  Christine cursed. She couldn’t call in Circe and the Coven for help if Berith wasn’t locked down in one spot. If he could get away, then that would leave Winterspell vulnerable.

  “We’re going to have to do this ourselves,” she said, making a decision.

  The witches lined up and hit Berith with a focusing spell. The blue beam hit him in the chest, this time at full power. The demon roared in pain, thrashing wildly. The spell holding him down broke, and he leapt forward at the team with astounding speed.

  Rifts opened to his left and right, and gremlins poured forth anew.

  Lightning flashed and new magic seared her eyes. Whether Lord Berith had forgotten about the dragons or not, she didn’t know, but the trio of storm dragons and the two witches riding their back entered the fray now, bringing with them the very wrath of mother nature itself as they kept Christine’s team free to handle the demon.

  “Hit him again!” she howled as Berith came at them, wind tearing at her voice. The already dark sky plunged into blackness as the storm dragons waged their own war.

  The blue beam focused and shot forward. This time, it hit Berith in his right knee. The demon lord tumbled, crushing dozens of two-headed gremlins as he went, taking an inadvertent blast of lightning straight to the face.

  Fire shot into the sky from his horns, and one of the dragons narrowly escaped, banking hard as the flames singed at its scales. Christine hoped it wasn’t Altair.

  Lord Berith got to his feet, and Christine saw that he was no longer hurt. His wounds were healing. The demon laughed. “Yes, give it to me!” he howled as they attacked him again.

  Something was very, very wrong. Their magic wasn’t hurting the demon lord. He was absorbing it.

  “Stop your attacks,” she shouted as Berith backed away, heading toward the ruins of the Outpost. “He’s up to something. He’s got something stashed over there. He must.”

  Altair landed nearby, resuming his human form as he jogged over to her. “The others have the gremlins in hand. How can I help?” he asked, walking next to her.

  “Pants?” she suggested as they shadowed Berith.

  “Not my forte.”

  “Right. Well, then tell me how he’s absorbing our magic, and what he intends to do with it. He doesn’t want us to send him back to the Abyss I figure. He just wanted us to attack him.”

  Altair nodded, then glanced at the massive, towering figure of the demon. “What if what he’s going for isn’t in the Outpost?” he said, horror spreading across his face. “The new magic!” he hissed. “I can’t believe we missed it!”

  Christine shook her head. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

  “Berith wasn’t talking about us, when he said that. He was talking about the portal.”

  Her blood turned to ice. She looked at Berith, saw him bull his way through the ruins and carry on. Directly toward the portal.

  “If he dumps all that energy into the portal,” she whispered.

  “It would open up again. The Infected would come through.”

  Christine didn’t think. She just acted. Her staff came up and across. Reality parted savagely. Through it, she could still see Lord Berith. Only this time, he was approaching instead of retreating. She was about to put herself between him and the portal.

  “By the way,” she said. “In case this goes badly, I want you to know, I love you too.” She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him hard, but briefly, and then rushed through the rift, followed by her team.

  Even as she oriented herself on the other side, nearly two hundred feet from where she’d been, her body was tingling. Humming, really. It felt alive!

  “Christine?” one of the others asked.

  She looked up to see Lord Berith nearly upon them. His maul arcing back, ready to swipe down across them.

  “No!” she screamed and poured her magic into the spell.

  Power surged through her veins and out through her staff in a blazing display of golden light. The beam hit Berith’s maul dead center, adding considerable force to the back swing.

  Not expecting it, Berith was spun around by the sudden acceleration of his weapon, losing his balance and falling backward.

  “He must not reach the portal!” she shouted, gesturing at the swirling plate-sized shape in the air behind them. “No matter the cost!”

  The others were staring at her, still awed by the power she’d displayed in her attack on Berith. Christine didn’t care though; she only had one mission, one objective.

  Prevent him from opening th
e portal.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Christine

  Her magic came with an ease she’d never experienced before.

  Christine wasn’t sure what was powering her, but she felt strong. Purple light bathed the darkened battlefield as she stood defiantly against Lord Berith, her magic against his demonic strength.

  One clawed demon hand pressed down on her wall of energy. She grunted and was driven to one knee. He was so strong. So powerful. How could she hope to stop him? It seemed inevitable that, even with her newfound strength, she would succumb to him.

  Part of her mind knew that what she was feeling was the demon’s projection, his presence on the mortal plane instilling in her a sense of despair that wasn’t her own. But part of it was the knowledge that he was stronger than her. She couldn’t hold him.

  Footsteps crunched on the crispy, blackened ground next to her.

  Out of the corner of her right eye, she saw another witch come and stand on the line. The woman shouted and lifted her wand. Green magic threaded its way through the purple shield, strengthening it, slowing the downward progression. But not stopping it.

  Turning her head slightly, she saw Madison’s green eyes flash with anger as she poured her magic into the shield.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Jessie said as she came up on Christine’s left, raising her wand, adding her own yellow light.

  Berith snarled and pushed harder. The wall of energy continued to descend toward them.

  Red magic blossomed from several spots, infusing the wall with yet another color.

  The wall slowed.

  More footsteps on the ground as more witches came forward, overcoming their fear of Berith, adding their magic.

  Christine snarled savagely as her entire team took the line, reinforcing the wall, weaving their magic through it, strengthening it, turning it solid. Stopping it.

  “You lose,” she whispered, locking eyes with the maniacal demon.

  As one, the witches heaved against the shield.

  The magic wall flung upward and slapped Berith across the face, hurling the demon backward. He retreated several steps but came on hard.